You're the one that I want
by LReads
Summary: Roderich and Gilbert share a brief Summer romance, but with Roderich set to return to Austria, they part ways. And when Roderich's family decides against going home, Roderich is none to pleased to find that Gilbert is not that kind soul he remembered. Will Gilbert be able to win Roderich over ? (PruAus Grease AU)
1. Chapter 1

**This all came about after talking to tumblr user purplepantsandpradaglasses, so thanks to her for chatting, and for listening to me babble about this.**

* * *

The evening was beautiful, the sunset reflected on the sea, the sand coarse but warm between their toes; it would have been perfect if it wasn't their last night together.  
Roderich entwined his fingers in Gilbert's and squeezed them tightly, not because he was scared and needed reassurance, but because he was heading back to Austria soon and he'd never get the chance to hold onto Gilbert like this again.  
He kept his head down facing his feet, for he knew that if he looked into those remarkable eyes, or if he caught a glimpse of that cheeky grin, there would be the distinct possibility that he'd burst into tears.

"I doubt we'll see each other again." he remarked bitterly, mentally cursing life, responsibilities, and everything that kept him away from love.

Gilbert gently placed his hand beneath Roderich's chin and raised it slightly, locking eyes with his Summer fling. "Sure we will." He replied with such confidence that Roderich almost deluded himself into believing him. Gilbert slowly leaned in close, pressing his forehead to Roderich's, and gave him one last parting kiss.

* * *

"Francis !" Antonio exclaimed rushing up to one of his closet friends, a classmate he hadn't seen all Summer. "So where have you been these past month's, did you go back to France ?"

A man with a flair for the dramatic, Francis put a hand to his chest and sighed, "Sadly not, I've been worked like a dog this season, but it'll be worth it when I finally buy a car." Antonio chuckled softly and shook his head, it was good to be back - even if an ungodly amount of stress awaited them in this, their final year of high school. Their reunion was interrupted by unmistakeable laughter of Gilbert Beilschmidt coming from across the courtyard. Gilbert stood at the centre of a semicircle of girls who laughed along with him as he spoke. Typical Gilbert, flirting before the school year had even began.

Eager to hear how his vacation had been, the duo beckoned Gilbert over with a whistle from Antonio. "Who are the lucky girls ?" Francis asked with a suggestive lift of a brow.

Gilbert scoffed at the thought, he wasn't flirting, he couldn't help it if he was just naturally charming. It's not like he had the slightest bit of interest in any of them, he just liked their attention, "Nobody, they're just the same classmates we've had every year."

Francis wasn't quite buying Gilbert's explanation, the man would attempt to seduce the Queen simply because he fancied the challenge, but he was far too interested in catching up with his friends to press the matter. "So what did you do all Summer ?"

"You know, just hung out at the beach. I met this one guy there, he was cool I suppose." And though he tried to act so very calm and aloof, the corners of his lips upturned, revealing that he thought that this man was more than just 'cool'  
Francis and Antonio shared a look, was it possible that Gilbert was smitten ? But before they got a chance to question him, the bell for class rang and he was off.

* * *

Roderich fidgeted with the end of his coat as walked to class with Elizabeta. He wasn't sure what to wear for his first day of American high school, back in Austria his private school had required a uniform and thus eliminated all the needless worry over fashion.  
How he wished he could be back home in Vienna, The City of Music, The City of Dreams; not little Rydell that seemed painfully empty now that the tourists had departed. Granted he did have an amazing Summer, but it was the company he loved so much, not the setting.  
Why his parents had decided on staying he'd never understand. He felt completely out of his depth, what if hazing was a thing here ? What if he found classes too difficult through English ?  
Roderich thanked god for his neighbour Elizabeta, here was someone to ease his fears and perhaps make his school days bearable, but the sooner the year was over the better.  
Once he'd received his diploma he'd be on the first flight back home.

* * *

Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert sat on the bleachers eating their lunch and observing the football players out on the field, mocking occasionally when someone dropped the ball, and bursting into laughter when Mathias stumbled over a misplaced helmet. But the athletes antics could not hold their attention for long, and soon enough Francis and Antonio were pushing Gilbert to expand on his Summer adventures.

"So tell us what _really_ went on at the beach." Antonio teased, elbowing Gilbert in the arm and earning himself a scowl in return.

"Nothing happened." Gilbert insisted, perhaps a bit too harshly because his friends rolled their eyes in reply. Of course something had happened at the beach, he'd fallen for Roderich. But he wasn't about to start gushing about it like some lovesick puppy.

Francis, sitting on the bench behind Gilbert, grasped him by the shoulders and whispered into his ear, just loud enough for Antonio to hear as well. "Stop denying your feelings Gilbert, we saw how you smiled this morning. You're infatuated with this man."

Gilbert had no idea how to answer Francis, he was used to him claiming to be in head over heels in love every couple of weeks, but Francis pinning that emotion on him was new. Was he supposed to come right out and agree? Say 'Yes I think I might be in love, but it doesn't matter now because he's half way across the globe.' No no no, that was far too sappy for him. He decided to tell the story from the beginning, but omit all mentions of how Roderich had made him feel.  
"So there I was, walking along the beach when I spot this guy having trouble in the water. Naturally I swam out and saved him. He was so grateful that he took me out for a bite to eat, and you know. . . one thing lead to another."

"And are you going to see this man again ?" Francis asked, his blue eyes bright with hope and enthusiasm.

"No, he's gone back to Austria." Gilbert answered through gritted teeth, partly out of loathing for the entire situation, but mostly out of frustration with Francis' incessant badgering. Francis' obsession with his love life was sickening, couldn't he focus on his own ? It's not as if it was lacking in excitement.

Francis sighed, giving Gilbert a sympathetic smile. "How tragic, you're a modern day Odysseus and Penelope."

"Who ? You better not be putting me in the role of the chick. And never mind that, it was just a Summer thing, it's not like I care." Gilbert grumbled, crossing his arms like a spoiled child. We're they really doing this, were his friends really putting him on the spot like this ? He should just bring up one of Francis' many failed relationships before they started singing 'Gilbert and Roderich sitting in a tree.' Come to think of it, he hadn't told them his mystery man's name, but it was probably best that he didn't. Giving him a name would just legitimize this whole thing in their minds.

"Hey Gil, did you get his address, maybe you could be penpals ?" Antonio asked with such wide eyes and a large smile, that Gilbert couldn't be certain if he was teasing or if he was just that hopelessly optimistic. He reckoned that it was probably a bit of both.  
Worn out by his friends behaviour, Gilbert skulked off back towards class without even granting the men a simple goodbye, wondering why the hell he continued to be friends with such people.

* * *

Alfred, Vash, and Natalya were eating lunch and complaining about teachers who insisted on assigning essays on the first day of the school year when Elizabeta showed up with Roderich in tow. Elizabeta took a seat next to Vash, while Roderich sat flanked by Alfred and Natalya, who then preceded to ask him all sorts of "getting to know you" questions.  
The four friends of made up 'The Pink Ladies.' An odd choice for a group that was half male, but they had dubbed themselves after the cocktail, a drink which they all shared a mutual love for. This however, didn't explain the matching pink embroidered jackets.

"Who's the stray ?" Vash mumbled, only loud enough for Elizabeta to hear.

"Roderich Edelstein, he just moved here from Austria." Elizabeta's expression turned stern as she raised he finger towards him, "I'm warning you Vash, be nice to him. We both know that it's no fun to be the new kid"

Vash paid her warning no heed, he was still entirely focused on the first half of her answer. "Austrian hmm, I suppose this means I can't curse at you all in German anymore without being caught."

Elizabeta glared at him, trying to remember when Vash last spoke the language around her. Unable to recall any instances, she decided that he was just being his usual snarky self. She turned away from him and faced Roderich, listening in on his conversation with Alfred and Natalya.

"My Summer ? It was wonderful thank you, I spent the majority of it at the beach."

"I was the same when I first moved from Hungary. Coming from a landlocked country the beach was such a novelty, don't you think ?" Elizabeta interjected. Vash and Natalya, from Switzerland and Belarus respectively; both of which were also landlocked countries, nodded in agreement. They could all remember when they first moved to Rydell and found themselves captivated by the sea. Except Alfred of course, he'd been born in Rydell and in his group he was the only natural born citizen.  
Roderich reddened in embarrassment, after his first visit to the beach he no longer felt awed by it's beauty. In truth he felt apathetic towards the seaside as the thought of crabs creeping through the sand left him feeling uneasy.

"You're blushing, something you want to share with us ?" Natalya asked. Roderich felt a little intimated, and bit ashamed of that feeling. Natalya had a serious face, with eyes that seemed to stare into his soul, but in their brief conversation she had been distant but kind enough.

"Um well, I don't care for the beach much. I only continued going in order to meet up with . . . he's, well he's . . ." Roderich struggled to find the right words to define Gilbert, he wasn't a boyfriend, he was more than just a friend, lover sounded far to vulgar.

"Why don't you just tell us what happened." Vash groaned, growing impatient.

"The first time I went to the beach I met a man. At first I thought him a show off, but after we chatted I saw a softer side to him, and I grew to care about him very much. " Roderich smiled as he spoke of happier times, but his eyes seemed pained. "But then I was set to go back to Austria and we parted ways." Alfred and Elizabeta wore sympathetic frowns, Natalya's face was unreadable, and Vash didn't really seem to care.

"Awh cheer up. Now that you're staying maybe you'll see him again." Alfred smiled hopefully. "Say, what was this guy's name anyway ?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt."

A wicked smile grew across Vash's face. "You know what Roderich, something tells me you'll meet this man again."


	2. Chapter 2

The sidelines were packed with excited students, clapping as the cheerleaders made their way onto the field. Roderich had come at the urging of Elizabeta, though she didn't really need to insist, he was interested in seeing a game of American football up close for the first time. He'd only ever seen snippets of the sport in movies and was actually excited to see how it all worked.

He watched as the women threw their pom poms in the air, shouting words of encouragement for the footballers. Natayla was amongst them, looking withdrawn and not at all pepped like her teammates. Elizabeta had told Roderich that back in Belarus Natalya had been an acrobat and gymnast, but here in Rydell the closest thing she could find to her previous hobbies were the flips and jumps of cheerleading. Based on her lack of interest Roderich gathered that the routine was far below her skill level. He pitied her really, it was no wonder that she always seemed so bored. Her passion had been taken away from her, or rather her from it.

Feeling a pair of eyes on him, he looked away from Natalya and towards the bench of football players. One of his peers was looking at him, a blonde, blue eyed man with the wildest, most gravity defying hair he'd ever seen. Though he still had feelings for Gilbert, feelings that were best forgotten given the improbability of anything happening, he had to admit to himself that the man staring at him was incredibly attractive. The man's crooked smirk was oddly charming, and when he smiled at him Roderich could feel his cheeks heat up.  
The player leaned forward in his seat, allowing Roderich to crane his neck just enough to catch a glimpse of the name printed on the back of his jersey; Køhler. He'd have to commit that to memory.

* * *

Antonio and Gilbert sat perched on the hood of a stranger's car in the school car park, smoking the very last of their cigarettes as they waited for Francis. The noises coming for the nearby football field indicated that the game had just begun, leaving Gilbert sorely tempted to head on into the stands without Francis, but he persevered as the Frenchman wasn't one to be late without good reason, he'd give him until he reached the butt of his cigarette until they departed without him.

"So what do you think is keeping him ?" he asked, turning to face Antonio who seemed thoroughly unfazed by the delay. It always astounded him how Antonio's mood rarely seemed to drop, no matter the situation.

Antonio paused a moment before answering, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow, the Summer was over now, but it seemed as though it wasn't quite ready to leave them just yet. "I think he said that he had to meet a man."

Gilbert huffed and got to his feet. It was pretty low of Francis to stand them up for a date, he could have at least called. Whoever this man was, he better be pretty damn special to make them late for the opening game of the new school year.  
Gilbert and Antonio began walking towards the field, only to be halted by the deafening, clanking sounds of an engine badly in need of a mechanic. Driving towards them in beaten up car that was probably white beneath the layers of grease and grime, was Francis, his head held high as though he were driving a Rolls Royce, not a death trap fit for the junkyard. Eyeing the vehicle closely, Gilbert felt positive that the car probably had been dragged from such a place.

"Well what do you think ?" Francis said, now standing by the bonnet, proudly admiring his new purchase.

"You're late is what I think." Gilbert said dryly, tapping his foot like a disapproving parent. "Antonio said you were meeting up with some guy, so where did this piece of scrap come from ?"

"I said that I had to see a man about a car." Francis laughed. "You really should listen more closely Antonio."

Gilbert stepped forward and gave the front wheels a little kick. They tyres were deflated and it was a wonder that Francis hadn't veered off into a ditch. The windscreen was cracked, the body was dented, surely Francis was going to sell the car for parts ?

"Careful Gil." Francis exclaimed, feeling protective of the vehicle. "We're going to have to put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into fixing Grease Lightning, and I'd prefer if you didn't add to the workload."

"Grease Lightning ?" Gilbert gaped at him, too shocked by the name to notice that Francis expected him to help make the clunker road worthy. Even if he had, his protests would have been drowned out by the noise of a revving engine.

Ceasing their squabble and turning their heads, they saw Ivan Bragansky, leader of The Scorpions, driving towards them in his 'Hell's Chariot'. He parked right next to Grease Lightning, no doubt to compare his sleek and shining car with Francis' death trap.

Looking up at the friends, Ivan gave them what Gilbert thought was the most lying of smiles. "Well it certainly has charm. Don't you agree boys ?" Ivan asked, casting his head backwards to a group of three eastern European cousins in the back seat. None of whom really seemed like gang members, nor did they seem comfortable to be there.  
The trio only nodded, and no one could blame them really, Ivan had a way of terrifying everyone around him with even the kindest of gestures. Gilbert had felt far too intimidated to argue, a felling which he'd never admit to, not even to himself. But he needn't have felt like a coward, Francis and Antonio had been equally tight lipped.  
Reversing his car slowly, Ivan gave them a polite wave and drove out of sight.

Vash Zwingli was in a foul humour as he hurried through the carpark, traffic had been a nightmare and had made him late for the game. But spotting Ivan Bragansky taunting Gilbert Beilschmidt and company had provided him with the perfect opportunity, effectively elevating his mood.

* * *

"I appreciate that you have a surprise for me, but I'd much prefer if we could stay and watch the game." Roderich lamented as he pried Vash's hand from his wrist. He was grateful that Vash finally seemed welcoming, but the manhandling was unnecessary.

Vash sighed and grasped Roderich's hand again. With a pleading look, and his voice lowered to almost a whisper, he guaranteed it would be worth it. "There will be more games, but I promise you that what I'm about to show you is something you'll never forget."

Elizabeta, Natalya, and Alfred who had been trailing behind them all felt puzzled, Vash seemed almost desperate for Roderich to come along. He wasn't a man to beg, so what exactly was he playing at ?  
Roderich didn't know what to think either, when he first met Vash, he had seemed perpetually irritated at him and now he seemed to need him for something.  
But Vash's assurance that he'd never forget what he'd see was enticing, even if it could be interpreted as menacing. Mulling it over, he decided that Vash's promise seemed interesting enough for him to go along with.

After being pulled mercilessly through the carpark , Roderich was pushed forward into a group of tense seeming men. Each man wore a leather jacket adorned with a patch on the back, reading 'T - Birds'.  
The first man he saw was a blond, the second was a brunet, but the third had white hair the likes of which he'd only ever seen on one man before. And when their eyes met Roderich gasped, there were those haematic eyes that had captivated him all Summer.

"Gilbert ?" he asked, his voice shaking out shock. Part of him wanted to reach out and touch him, make sure he wasn't some vision that manifested after Vash's hold on his wrist cut off his circulation. But he restrained himself, all he'd need was for Gilbert to answer and confirm it was really him.

"Roderich ? What are you - I mean you were supposed to go back to Austria and -" Gilbert paused, acutely aware that his friends were witnessing an emotional moment. Only days ago Francis had been taunting him about his mystery man, and now here he was about to expose his true feelings. He couldn't act all lovey dovey in front of his friends, they'd never let him live it down. "So you stayed ? Couldn't get enough of me I suppose." Gilbert chuckled, flashing his teeth. Unlike the smiles from their shared Summer -the ones that made Roderich's heart flutter and leap- this grin was full of arrogance and didn't at all suit the man Roderich had come to know.

"Is something the matter Gilbert, you don't seem quite yourself ?" Roderich asked, knitting his brow in confusion. The man in front of him seemed cocky and rude - just like when they had first met at the beach. But back then Gilbert had quickly learned that his arrogance would get him nowhere and toned it down and acted genuine. So why had he reverted ?

"I'm 100% me, don't tell me you've decided to stay in Rydell all for me and now you've had a change of heart ? But I suppose it can't be helped, now that were at school, you'd have to compete with the many others vying for my attention." Gilbert cackled. When he looked back towards his friends he had expected to see them laughing, but instead he found them regarding him with contempt.

The only sounds that filled the carpark in that brief and tense moment in which Roderich struggled to think of a retort were the tuts coming from Gilbert's blond friend, and the furious mutterings that came from under Elizabeta's breath. Roderich didn't know how to respond, because what was one supposed to say to counter such egotistical drivel ?  
With much less decorum than he had expected of himself, he exploded. "You are absolutely vile Gilbert. You acted so sweet during the Summer, but I see now that you're nothing but a conceited moron, and I can't believe that I conned myself into thinking that you were a decent human being."

* * *

Enraged at Gilbert, and a bit at himself for snapping, he stormed off to behind the school gym. His hands shaking, he leaned against the wall and slumped to the ground. But he refused to cry, he would not spare a tear for the man that humiliated him.  
He had acted like a romantic fool telling Elizabeta and her friends all about his wonderful Summer, when in reality he'd been played. Gilbert was not kind and energetic; he was manipulative and vain.  
Gilbert had probably run home everyday and regaled his friends with the story of the Austrian tourist whom he had wrapped around his little finger, and they were probably all laughing at him now.  
Oh how had he let himself be so naïve ? He should just go home and beg his parents to return to Vienna lest he suffer any more embarrassment.

Looking up he saw a hand outstretched towards him, Elizabeta. After the shock of learning Gilbert's true character it was a relief to see that he'd not misjudged her, she was just caring as he first believed "Are you ok pet ?"

"Perfectly fine, just feeling a little silly. And I assure you, I don't usually lose my cool like that." He replied, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. And after his shame ultimately diminished, he _would _be fine. Gilbert had proved himself to be nothing more than a pompous brute, so he refused to spare him another thought. The stresses of the day were nothing that couldn't be relieved with a little therapy in front of the piano.

Elizabeta pursed her lips and rocked on her heels, pondering something. "You've had a rough day Roderich, so I was wondering if you'd like to join the rest of us for a sleepover ? It's at my house so you won't have to travel far."

A mixed sex sleepover, would that be allowed ? But given his inclinations, did it really matter ? And after a day like today, he felt like he should take all the real friends he could get. "Um, I suppose that could be fun . . .all right."

"Wonderful !" Elizabeta smiled, wrapping her arm around Roderich's shoulder. "We're going to have to introduce you to our signature 'Pink Lady' cocktail, and of course we'll give you license to bitch about Gilbert all night long if you want. Oh and maybe we could pierce your ears."

Perhaps this was a bad idea.


	3. Chapter 3

At the sleepover Roderich had learned a number of things, the first being that his new friends had always known exactly what kind of man Gilbert was, the second was that 'Pink Ladie's' were a foul drink that contained egg whites of all things.

When Elizabeta and Natalya left the room, sneaking downstairs to fetch a bottle of champagne in hopes that it would be more to Roderich's taste, Alfred decided he needed to more about Roderich and Gilbert's relationship. Gilbert's ego was legendary, and based on Roderich's earlier reactions, it seemed to be the first time he'd ever seen it. So how had Gilbert behaved all Summer ?  
"Gilbert isn't exactly the nicest guy, so what was he like around you ?" He asked scooching next to Roderich on the bed, showing no concern for his feelings, or for his personal space.

Before Roderich could prepare a reply, Vash answered for him. "What's there to tell ? Gilbert played nice, but in the end he just fucked and ran. It's how the story always goes." There was a bitterness to Vash's voice, giving all present a sense that he was a veteran of heartbreak. But there was no sympathy from Roderich, Vash had jumped to conclusions and now Roderich was far too concerned with clearing up misconceptions to ease Vash's old wounds.

"That is most certainly not how our story went." Roderich snapped back. Remaining calm was something he was finding difficult since moving to Rydell, what with Vash so antagonistic and making assumptions, and Gilbert revealing his true self, was it any wonder that he lost his composure ? Voice lowered to a more polite level, he narrowed his eyes at Vash. "That brief. . . _thing _with Gilbert was completely chaste thank you very much." Even if that weren't true, did Vash really expect him to recount his sexual exploits ? He was continually astounded by what passed for polite conversation in Rydell.  
"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom." He needed respite from all the confrontation, it wasn't that he couldn't hold his own against Vash - he felt certain he could. It was just that arguing stressed him out, made him lose the ability to hold his tongue, and Vash relished it. The man was incorrigible, if Roderich fought back he only served to encourage him, and if he stayed silent he gave Vash all the power.

With Natalya and Elizabeta off raiding the liquor cabinet, Roderich hiding in the toilet, Vash was bored.  
Sure he had Alfred, but he was no fun at all. Alfred was proud, not with the type of overcompensating arrogance that Gilbert possessed, but just too damn sure of himself to ever let anything Vash said affect him. It was impossible to get a rise out of him, Alfred would always respond to snide remarks with a laugh and a "C'mon Vash, we both know that's not true."  
Gilbert would respond similarly to Vash's taunts - dismissive and cocky. But unlike Alfred there was always that glint of uncertainty in his eyes that most people failed to catch. It amused him to no end that Roderich hadn't noticed, you would think that someone who had spent an entire Summer falling madly in 'love' with the man would have picked up on the act.  
Roderich himself was a different story all together, when Vash goaded him it led to disgust instead of plain 'ol refutation. That's what intrigued him so. Surely that prim and proper attitude was all a mask ?

Desperate for entertainment, Vash wandered in circles around Elizabeta's room, searching for anything that might hold his attention for at least a little while. After a moment or two his eyes fixed themselves to a box marked 'wigs' sitting atop Elizabeta's wardrobe. Opening it up he found that there was only one wig, a long blonde one. It didn't quite fit with what he had in mind, but he could make do.  
Getting to his knees, he parked himself in front of Elizabeta's vanity table and fixed the wig firmly to his head with the assistance of a few dozen hair pins. Taking a large dollop of gel, he carefully styled a cowlick into the hair.

Alfred crawled forward on the bed in order to get a closer look at whatever Vash was up to. He couldn't help but snigger at how ridiculous he looked, blond may have been Vash's natural colour, but flowing curls were a new look for him. "Liza will freak when she sees you, you know."

Vash didn't respond, but merely smirked as he drew a tiny black dot on his chin with eyeliner.

"Oh my god, you're trying to -" Alfred began, but was cut off with a shush.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Vash crossed his ankles beneath him and folded his hands in his lap. With those mannerisms and that appearance, he looked more like a grammar school teacher than a student. Clearing his throat, he let out a shrill song.  
"Look at me I'm Roddy E, lousy with virginity. Won't go to bed 'til I'm legally wed -"

"Is that supposed to be an imitation of me ? Roderich asked from the doorway, staring at Vash with a look of utter contempt. From behind him charged Elizabeta, her finger pointed as she muttered something in what Vash guessed was Hungarian.

Removing the wig and wiping the 'mole' from his chin, Vash glanced out the window to where an engine could be heard. Without once turning back to Elizabeta - because he knew that an angry Elizabeta was a dangerous Elizabeta -, he carefully stepped out onto the windowsill, and began the risky climb down the trellis, navigating himself around the bed of tulips once he had made a safe landing.

"Where are you going ? I'm not through with you." Elizabeta called after him, peering out the window to see Vash make his way towards a car parked in the shadows. "We're not through with this conversation Vash, next time we meet there'll be trouble."

* * *

The worn backseat of Francis' car was hardly the place for this, springs poked them at every movement , and the mysterious stains that peppered the ancient fabric spoiled the mood. But their homes weren't viable options, and neither of them expected any motel owner to rent a room to two teenage boys. So they'd just have to make do with a foul smelling death trap.

Vash pushed Francis from his position above him, pulling away from his kiss, "Can't you hurry it up ?"

Choosing to take Vash's demand as an expression of need, not as a desire to get things over with, he carefully stepped out over the gearstick and retrieved a condom from the glove compartment. "Skipping foreplay ? How impatient Vash. Though I can't say I blame you, the sooner you begin writhing beneath me the better right?"

Vash's fingernails dug into his palms as he gritted his teeth in annoyance. Honestly, what was with this town and it's wide selection of egotistical men ? "If you continue to talk like that I'm going to leave."

"Fine fine, if you don't want to experience romance that's your loss and -" Francis looked down at his hands and his expression darkened. "Ooops"

"Ooops ?" Vash repeated, pushing himself up on his elbows. "That's not something you should say in a situation like this."

Feeling tense and a little worried for the future of his night, Francis ran his hands through his groomed blond hair. "Um well my fingernail sliced through the latex and I don't have a spare."

Vash closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Trust Francis to let something as silly as his nail care ruin what could have been a decent evening. But he had gone to the trouble of climbing from a second story window, so might as well make the most of the opportunity. "I suppose we can go without, just this once."

* * *

The car cleansed of the night's earlier activities, Francis now found himself in the school carpark along with Antonio and Gilbert. And expectedly, Gilbert's behaviour was the only topic of conversation.

"Look I get it, I fucked up big time, you don't have to keep reminding me." Gilbert grumbled, sinking back into the passenger seat of Francis' new car. He was already feeling terrible about upsetting Roderich, his friends didn't have to keep interrogating him. "Can't you drop it already ?"

"Maybe we'll drop the topic when you tell us why you acted so callous." Francis advised. There was a hint of frustration in his voice, but mostly he just sounded eager for Gilbert to bare his soul. With a sigh he gently laid a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "I get it Gil, these feelings are new and strange, but they're natural."

"You sound like a parent trying to teach me about the birds and the bees." Gilbert cringed, recoiling from Francis' touch.

Clambering out of the back of the car, Antonio wedged himself between the two front seats. "He has a point Gil, you've never been good with the emotional stuff. And it's not just Roderich you're hurting. This thing you do where you push people away has to stop, you're heading down a self destructive path. I know it's hard to open up to people, but sometimes you just have to take that leap of faith."

Francis and Gilbert sat slack-jawed and wide eyed, regarding Antonio with a look of shock and awe. While they both had known that there were brains behind that bubbly outer shell, neither man was expecting Antonio to actually have good advice when it came to matters of the heart.

Antonio chuckled to himself, he was Spanish for god's sake, was in any wonder that he knew a thing or two about passion ?

* * *

**A/N: I'd just like to thank you all for being so supportive. Every follow/favourite/review really helps to brighten my day.**  
**Once again I'd like to thank purplepantsandpradaglasses for firstly coming up with the idea, and secondly for helping me work out the kinks and listening to me freak out over what to do. This wouldn't exist without her.**  
**You may have noticed that I've added and omitted scenes, I hope this won't hinder your enjoyment of the story. But rest assured that I won't be changing the basics of the plot. (except for Rizzo's pregnancy scare, you won't be getting any Mpreg here)**


	4. Chapter 4

The trio were in Francis' garage, a remarkably clean room that provided a stark contrast to Grease Lightning. Which as the name suggested, was coated in a film of dust and oil.  
Gilbert stood looking down into the opened car bonnet, pretending to know what he was staring at. He could identify the engine sure enough, but the pipes and cables were all foreign to him.  
Antonio took a look over Gilbert's shoulder, noting that Gilbert hadn't touched a thing. Typical of him really, all talk no action.

"You don't have the skills to get this car running smoothly," Antonio teased, gently pushing past Gilbert and getting a look for himself. Without a word he set his head down and outstretched his hand toward Francis, motioning for a flashlight.  
Francis passed the light along, and shared a look of confusion with Gilbert, silently asking if he was aware of Antonio's mechanical abilities.

Gilbert retreated to the driver's seat and put his feet up on the dashboard, content to let Antonio to do all the work. "Fine you can do the technical side of it, but I'm picking the paint. How cool will this baby look with lightning bolt decals ?"

Stumped for the second time in under a minute, Francis sat down beside Gilbert. "Why are you suddenly so positive about our endeavour, if I recall correctly you called this 'a piece of scrap'," Francis leaned over Gilbert, close enough for the him to get a whiff of his Givency cologne. "Or are you attempting to focus your attention away from that pretty little Austrian ?"

Gilbert waved his hands in exasperation. "Hardly, I just want to show up Bragansky that's all. Who the hell does he think he is, mocking us ?"

"One minute it's junk, next it's your baby. You seem to like changing your feelings towards things, don't you Gilbert ? People included."

Gilbert held his tongue - quite a feat for him, because there just wasn't any point to arguing with Francis who had already decided that he was hopelessly in love with Roderich and suffering from a major case of denial. At this point he was certain that he could run off to Canada and marry a Mountie and Francis would still insist that Roderich was his soulmate.

Antonio appeared at the side of the car, his olive skin streaked with engine oil. "Ok Gil, can you start it up ?"

Welcoming any reason to avoid Francis' ramblings about his romance, or more accurately -his lack of it, Gilbert did as was asked of him and turned the key. Instead of the sputters and coughs that usually came from the engine, it now gave off a steady rhythm.  
Francis' eyes widened, not expecting Antonio to have solved their engine trouble on the first try, but nevertheless he was grateful, gleefully throwing an arm around him. "This calls for celebratory drinks."

Antonio looked horrified. "It's 2pm on a Sunday."

"I meant milkshakes at Frosty's of course."

* * *

Ivan Bragansky drove erratically, narrowly avoiding colliding with pedestrians as he turned the corner at Frosty's diner. He sped past Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert, affixing a smile to his face as he waved to them politely. Gilbert who was usually the one to get riled up about Ivan's antics, paid him no attention. While Francis shook his head and scolded his irresponsible driving, Gilbert's mind was elsewhere, thinking of reconciliation with Roderich. He knew that his complicated relationship with Roderich was most likely broken beyond repair, but it never hurt to try. Maybe there was a not so grand gesture he could attempt, or maybe Roderich would be to the type to fall into his arms with some tender words.

"You haven't been listening to me at all have you ?"

"Hmmm ?"

"So you don't have an opinion on whether or not we should race Ivan ? Goodness Gilbert, you're a changed man since you've met Roderich."

"Roderich, Roderich Roderich." Gilbert fumed, pushing open the door to the diner. "I swear to God, if I hear one more thing about . . . Roderich." Gilbert stopped in his tracks. Speak of the devil. There he was, sitting at the counter picking at a basket of fries and smiling as he spoke with Mathias Køhler.  
Why on Earth was he with that meathead ? Roderich was smart, witty, and refined, and Mathias was none of those wonderful things.  
Was this jealousy, he thought. No it couldn't be, he could have anyone he wanted, right ?

He led Francis and Antonio to a booth, and sat down with his back to Roderich. Something he immediately regretted. Fighting the urge to turn his head and stare, he read the menu with keen interest.  
Luckily his friends didn't think it odd that he would read something he should have memorized after years of faithful patronage, and they went about ordering their drinks.  
While they chatted amicably with the waitress, Gilbert took the opportunity to make a quick glance back towards Roderich.  
Roderich was out of his chair, strolling towards the jukebox with coins in hand, and Gilbert noted that Mathias was staring after him as he walked.

Explaining that something one of the flyers on the wall caught his eye, he rose from the booth and made his way over to the jukebox where the noticeboard was so conventionally located.  
Playing it cool, he feigned interest in the various advertisements. Baby sitter for hire - fascinating. Live music here at Frosty's in two days time - how delightful.  
A poster for National Bandstands upcoming filming at Rydell High gym - shit he'd almost forgotten about that. The girls had been buzzing about it all Summer, except now that the school year had begun the excitement had died down. But that would no doubt change as the date grew closer.  
Then it hit him that he'd probably need a date for the dance. He briefly considered asking Roderich, but perhaps he should get back into his good graces first. But if his new-found friendship with Mathias was anything to go by, he'd already have his date.

Feeling as though he'd done enough browsing, he casually glanced over Roderich shoulder and pointed at the screen, "Great song."

"Not a great selection though." Roderich never raised his head as he spoke, but the fact that he was speaking at all was a good sign in Gilbert's eyes.

"Listen I uh -" Gilbert ran his sweaty palms along the sides of his jeans. Why did saying sorry make him feel so nervous, so vulnerable. Why couldn't he just be honest with Roderich and himself for a change?  
Sensing Roderich's growing impatience, he sped things up. "I suppose I just wanted to say sorry for how I acted."

There was a brief silence from Roderich, who clearly expected reasoning's along with apologies. With a sigh he turned away from the jukebox in order to confront Gilbert. "Sorry is all well and good but it doesn't explain your actions."

"The guys were there, and I didn't want to look like a sappy -"

Roderich held his hands up, signalling for Gilbert to stop. "I've heard enough thank you. Now excuse me but I was in the middle of lunch."

Before Roderich had a chance to return to his table, Gilbert took a step in front of him. "Just answer me this, what the hell do you see in Køhler ? He's just some jock."

"Well he hasn't put his reputation ahead of me. And so what if he's good at throwing a football, at least he has a passion. What are you doing with your life Gilbert ?

While Gilbert was left dumbstruck, Roderich tapped the buttons of the jukebox and walked away as the music played on.

* * *

He wished he could say that he joined the team for his own enjoyment, not because he felt he had something to prove to Roderich, but that would be a barefaced lie. However it was a lie he intended on sticking to.  
The coach assumed that he was joking when he first approached him the locker room, but who could blame him, after all Gilbert was more inclined to sit on the benches than he was to step onto the field.  
But coach Ludwig eventually gave into Gilbert's pleas, remembering that on the rare occasions when he would exert himself in gym class, he had shown great strategic skill on the basketball court.  
Unfortunately he wasn't a team player and he didn't have much of an aim, (curse his terrible eyesight) which ruled out plenty of sports

The coach suggested wrestling which would have been a great way to work out his frustrations, but after being pinned down one too many times Gilbert reacted with a punch to his attackers nose.  
In the end the coach suggested track, because how could Gilbert mess up running ?

Although he hadn't exactly joined the team with the noblest of intentions, Gilbert actually enjoyed his first foray into athleticism, finding that he was much faster than the majority of the other runners, even with tiny white shorts rubbing him the wrong way.  
He could feel his calf muscles burning as he ran, and strangely enough he didn't care, because he loved the competition, and he loved watching the scenery meld into a blur as he picked up speed.

And watching the scenery pass him by is precisely what he was doing when he noticed Roderich in the stands, laughing and joking with Mathias.  
A sense of rivalry rising within him, he showed off by leaping over hurdles - and as it turned out, he was good at that too. At least he would have been if he hadn't been continually peering over his shoulder to check that Roderich was looking and that he was suitably impressed.  
He took a particularity nasty fall over the third hurdle, and by the time he picked himself up off off the track Roderich was beside him, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side, and Gilbert couldn't be sure if he'd prefer that he laugh at him, rather than give him such a pitying look.

"Are you alright ?" Roderich asked, picking gravel from Gilbert's t-shirt. There was no reply from Gilbert, just a shrug as brushed himself clean.

"After the way you've behaved towards me, the least you could do is answer me when I speak to you." Roderich frowned. Really, must Gilbert act like a petulant little boy ?

"The least I could do ? I said I was sorry."

"Oh now that he's offended he has something to say." Roderich teased, the corners of his mouth upturning.

"Well like I said, I really am sorry." Gilbert went quiet then, his mind busy with ways to offhandedly bring up Mathias in conversation. But it was all down to tone, he decided. If he spoke with a smile he'd seem more like a curious friend than a jealous ex. "So what's with you and Mathias, is he taking you to Frosty's tomorrow ?"

Roderich snorted, actually snorted. "We're just friends." Gilbert didn't see what was so funny, both times he'd seen the pair together they'd seemed pretty close. What else was he supposed to think ?

"Well if you don't have a date then I'll take you."

"Oh will you now ?" The corners of Roderich's eyes crinkled as he did his best to hide his smile.

"Yeah, I'll pick you up at eight."

* * *

When Gilbert pulled up with Roderich outside Frosty's in his parents car, he was surprised to find how busy the diner was. He figured that the promise of live music would draw a bit of a crowd, but given that it was a Tuesday he hadn't expected that all his friends would show up too.  
Tables and chairs had been set to the side, creating a dance space which half the high school seemed to be occupying, their friends amongst them.  
Before they allowed themselves to be noticed, Gilbert took Roderich by the hand and led him to a table and hid their faces behind a wall of menus.

"Just wanted to give us some privacy" Gilbert explained, observing Roderich's rather confused expression. He then beckoned the waitress over, a chipper young woman named Michelle, whose long brown hair tickled when she leaned over him to take his order. Burgers and milkshakes they decided.

"Try it." Gilbert insisted, pushing a fry towards Roderich's mouth.

"Absolutely not, it's disgusting." Roderich replied, doing his level best to hide his amusement.

Gilbert scoffed at that, Roderich really ought to try being more adventurous. "It's not disgusting, fries dipped in a milkshake is a culinary masterpiece."

Suddenly the barrier of menus was pulled apart, and between them appeared Francis. "Well don't you two look cute." Vash strolled up behind Francis, his bottom lip slightly bruised, and Roderich couldn't help but wonder if Elizabeta had finally gotten a chance to finish that conversation. But when Francis snaked an arm around Vash's waist - which was promptly pried away - Roderich felt certain that the truth was far more lewd.

"Could say the same to you." Gilbert sneered as Francis pushed a second table into his own, and as Vash called Natalya, Alfred, Elizabeta, and Antonio over to join them. Great, that's just what he wanted, a group date. Patching things up with Roderich was sure to go smoothly with a dozen eyes looking on. Thankfully Roderich didn't seem to mind the intrusions and instead chatted amicably with Elizabeta.

"Anyone got any change, I'm starving here." Alfred groaned, stretching his open palm towards Natalya.

"Ask Elizabeta, she'll be rolling in it soon enough."

"I only said that I was thinking about it, and it's not _that_ profitable." Elizabeta pinched the bridge of her nose, honestly her decision was hard enough without Natalya bringing it up in conversation. Noting that Roderich was staring at her, she quickly did her best to explain. "I've been thinking about dropping out and enrolling in beauty school. Now he -" she said, glaring at Alfred, "seems to think that I'll foot the bill for everything."

Roderich nodded in understanding, but if he were to be completely honest, he'd have to tell her that he found her plans absolutely ridiculous. But he hardly knew Elizabeta, despite how supportive she'd been, and despite what a great friend she was quickly becoming, they just didn't have enough familiarity to start giving each other advice regarding life changing decisions.

As if suddenly remembering that he was in fact on a date, Roderich turned away from Elizabeta and refocused his attention on Gilbert. "I was wondering if you'd like to come over for tea this Sunday."

The group fell silent, hanging on Gilbert's every utterance of 'um'. Eventually his shock subsided enough for him to formulate a reply. "I don't like tea."

Perhaps to ease the awkwardness of the situation, but most likely to because he found his own thoughts to be more interesting, Alfred began his own line of conversation. "So have you all got dates for the National Bandstand event."

There was a collective shaking of heads from all bar Roderich, who simply mouthed a confused 'what' towards Elizabeta.

"It's a televised dance competition," Elizabeta began, the smile on her face clearly conveying her excitement. "and Rydell High was chosen as one of the filming locations. I'm surprised you haven't heard, it's all anyone could talk about all Summer."

"Well he was otherwise occupied all Summer." Vash teased, winking at Roderich and earning himself a look of derision in return.

With that said, the group returned to casual conversation, chatting about clothing for the dance and the latest music, until the diner began to empty, leaving only Roderich, Gilbert, Elizabeta, Francis, and Vash.

"I must admit, I'm a little worried about this dance." Roderich confessed. "Do you dance completely different steps here in America ?" Roderich knew that he didn't have two left feet, by his own judgement he was a pretty good dancer, but still, nerves weren't always rational.

Vash swung around in his chair, coming face to face with Roderich. "Oh I wouldn't worry about it. Someone such as yourself has probably attended countless grand balls in his lifetime, mastered all the waltzes and tangos. Tell me, am I wrong ?"

Ok that was enough, Gilbert thought as he rose from his seat, bringing his glass down to the table with a bang. He hadn't a clue what was wrong with Vash, but for some reason he was acting more sour than usual. "You ready to leave Roderich ? I'll drive you home."  
There was a grateful smile from Roderich as he took Gilbert up on his offer, glad to leave the hostile environment.

Francis gave them a friendly wave as they walked out the door together, happy to see Gilbert finally getting his act together and treating Roderich well. However that happiness was short lived as he soon realized that they had left without paying their bill. Turning on the charms, he batted his eyelashes, "Vash be a dear and help me cover this ?"

Elizabeta reclined in her seat, looking on as Vash centred his gaze on Francis, refusing to blink until he understood that there wasn't a hope in hell that he'd help pay. What was going on with them anyway ? Francis was acting more flirtatious than usual, was that just Francis being Francis or was there something more to it ?

Francis threw his hands in the air in defeat, Vash had made up his mind there would be no getting through to him. "What ever is the matter ? You're especially cankerous this evening."

Vash cast his eyes down to the table and took a breath. "Francis, don't start. I really don't want to hear it."

"Start ? At this point I'd prefer to finish things." Francis murmured. Not that there was anything to finish really, they weren't a couple, at least not in the traditional sense.

Without a word, Vash grabbed Roderich's unfinished milkshake and dumped the contents on Francis' lap, unfortunately an added side effect of his aggression was that he splattered dollops of the strawberry liquid on Elizabeta's skirt.  
Feeling a little guilty towards Elizabeta, and only Elizabeta, he passed her some napkins before storming out the diner, Francis following behind.

Elizabeta didn't have the energy to argue with Vash, normally she would have wrung his neck for that behaviour, but today she just wasn't up to it. She could play nice with the others, talk about trivial things like dances, but in reality she felt torn in two. She had a tough decision to make, and it being brought up in conversation didn't help matters. On one hand she really did want to enroll in beauty school, but she knew it was a risk, she could end up hating it or failing.

"Are you alright ?" As if the voice had snapped her out of a trance, Elizabeta looked up to see the waitress hovering over her, handing her a dish towel. "If your worried about the skirt, I'm sure it can be dry cleaned."

"It's not the skirt," Elizabeta sighed, dabbing at her clothing with the towel. "I just have a lot to think about."

The plates and cutlery balanced precariously in the left hand, the waitress gave Elizabeta a pat on the shoulder with the left. "I'll leave you to it then. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

The waitress dimmed the lights when she left, leaving Elizabeta in the dark with the company of her own thoughts. She was perfectly content to sit alone for a bit and do nothing but run through various scenarios in her head, but the heaven's had other ideas.  
A flash of twinkling orange lights appeared on the ceiling, and if she wasn't mistaken, they were accompanied by harps. The lights grew brighter and Elizabeta had to shield her watering eyes to spare her sight.  
The blinding lights died away, and blinking back tears she opened her eyes to see an angel.  
Well at least she thought he was an angel. He had the wings, the halo, and he was even dressed in a toga. But the angels in Italian frescos never had shaggy hair or thick eyebrows like the man standing before her.

"Who are you ?" she asked, her voice strong despite the fear she felt. She kept her eyes fixed firmly to him, but her hands were scouring her surroundings, searching for a weapon to defend herself with should it come to that.

"I'm your guardian angel." He replied, smirking at her disbelief as he took his seat in what was Vash's chair. Hands steepled beneath his chin, he leaned towards her. "Now I understand you're considering leaving school."

"That's right." Elizabeta stiffened, how could he have known that ? She considered herself religious, she believed in God, but an angel sitting in front of her ? That was far-fetched. The way she saw it, there were two possibilities. Either that was really an angel, or more likely; she had gone completely insane.

"Oh good. Let's get down to it shall we ?" Ironically the smile on the angel's face seemed devilish. Perhaps on anyone else it would have seemed charming, but when a divine being descends from the heavens before your eyes, one can't help but feel intimidated. "Now please don't think me rude, I do only have your best interests at heart, but frankly I'm surprised to see you quitting. Didn't you come here after '56 for a better life ?"

Elizabeta remained silent, for talking back to angel seemed downright blasphemous. But mostly she bit her tongue because she didn't quite know how to respond to a comment so forthright. Her friends had all stayed quiet on the matter, supporting her no matter her decision. But an angel being so candid ? She wasn't quite sure if she appreciated the honesty or if she found him a tad confrontational.

The orange lights recommenced, and the angel was soon enveloped by them. "Remember, there are only a few months of school left. I trust you'll make the right choice Elizabeta."

* * *

Lately the students had begun flitting about in excitement, their anticipation growing as the date of the filming approached, dance steps the only topic on the their lips. Even Elizabeta's thoughts revolved exclusively around the National Bandstand, her plans to for beauty school put on hold until after graduation. Divine intervention Vash had called it, oh how little he knew.  
Crewmen were swiftly becoming as common in Rydell High as tests and homework, becoming part of the scenery as they loaded their countless cameras and pieces of equipment into the gym.

Navigating their way around boxes of cables and stacks of film that was in the process of being unloaded from tv trucks, Vash and Natalya came face to face with Francis, the very last person the Swiss man wanted to see.  
Without so much as an icy stare, Vash brushed passed him and made his way through the school car park with Natalya following close behind. Maybe with enough indifference towards his existence, Francis would come to see that Vash had no interest in speaking to him ever again.  
Francis had to admit, (if only to himself) that he was a tad hurt. Sure Vash was snarky and cold, that he'd always been, but lately he was shorter tempered and ruder, as if constantly on edge. Vash was proving himself to be an enigma, but never matter, codes were usually cracked and broken relationships could be repaired. But in the meantime, Francis had an idea as to who could escort him to the dance.

* * *

Wedged together between two parked cars, Natalya and Vash were bemoaning their lack of dates for the biggest event in Rydell High history. Normally they would mind attending a dance alone, their enjoyment was not dependent on their relationship status after all. But a televised dance contest was dependent on having a date, and they couldn't very well strut on their own.

Address book open, Natalya let her finger scroll down the list of names. "You could try calling Ki-"

"Already rang him, he'll be out of town." Vash let his eyes ghost across the carpark, searching for any potential candidates. Occasionally he'd let himself consider a passerby, but he'd always dismiss him as unsuitable. It really shouldn't be this hard, he thought to himself. Hadn't he settled for Francis ?  
Just as Natalya began listing off some names, he found himself watching as a black, flame emblazoned car came into view. And as he stared at the driver, he found himself recalling that famous quote, _"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."_

Natalya raised a brow, her expression uncertain, an emotion Vash had never seen her display outwardly before. "Are you sure about this ?"

There were no words necessary for Vash's reply, his leap into Ivan Bragansky's passenger seat was answer enough.

* * *

**A/N:**  
**Technically Gilbert couldn't have married a Mountie, the first female Mounties didn't graduate until 1975 and Grease is set between 1959-60.**  
**I made a brief mention of Gilbert's eyesight as vision problems are common among albinos.**  
**'56 is in reference to The Hungarian Revolution of 1956, after which around 40,000 Hungarians emigrated to the U.S.A**  
**And I apologize for not mentioning this sooner, but canon family relationships don't apply here.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I've made a playlist of all the songs mentioned in the chapter, plus some extras.  
/watch?v=U48pNbEqEPw&list=PLDjBamLWMZwHtqG9Uxe4hvEyVoKy84ik2&index=1  
**

Crossing the threshold to the Rydell High gym, Vash clung to Ivan's arm, smiling brightly as he admired the red and white steamers that hung from the rafters.  
Putting up a friendly front may not have been his usual act, but he was more than willing to pretend if it meant that Francis would come to see that their one night stand was just that; for one night  
At least Ivan was being a good sport about everything, whether he wanted to antagonize Gilbert and his friends, or if he just liked dancing Vash didn't know. Frankly he didn't care, whatever it was it was mutually beneficial and he could leave it at that.

A femme fatale if there ever was one, Natalya wandered in behind them. With hair styled like Veronica Lake and a figure hugging emerald green dress, heads turned. Alfred's included.  
Stumbling towards her as he stuck his hands in the pockets of his brand new suit jacket, Alfred quickly thought of the various compliments he could bestow upon her that would come across as platonic. But everything that ran through that blonde head of his was far too sentimental.  
"Wow Nat, you look, wow." he eventually blurted out, his tone coming across as something more than friendly,

Natalya mumbled her thanks but her eyes were busy scanning the room, searching for that one face in particular. He stuck out like a sore thumb of course, students crowed around him and girls fawned over him.  
And like most everyone who decided to work in television, he relished the attention.  
Her eyes went wide as she noticed the host turn in her direction, he wasn't looking at herspecifically, she should be so lucky, but the mere fact that she was in the presence of a celebrity was staggering. "Look," Natalya reached behind her, grasping at Alfred's arm to gain his attention. "It's Sadik Adnan."

Alfred, who did not share in her excitement, pressed himself against the wall of the gym and snorted despite a stab of jealousy. "I didn't know you liked older men."

Choosing to ignore Alfred's teasing, Natalya set off towards Sadik, her usual icy stare melting into something more alluring.

* * *

While the band began warming up with Frankie Avalon's 'Venus', Gilbert escorted Roderich inside the gym, arm in arm. They paused in the doorway, Roderich taking in the sights of the balloons, banners, and cameras that filled the usually bare venue, while Gilbert shielded his sensitive eyes from the spotlights.  
Roderich had attended much grander parties back home in Austria, but there was something so endearing about a gang of teenagers dressed in their Sunday best, standing on linoleum flooring as they waited to dance for the nation.  
"You excited ?" Gilbert asked, already knowing the answer if Roderich's perpetual smile was anything to go by, but before Roderich could deliver it they were promptly shushed by another student who pointed towards the centre of the room.

A clipboard in one hand, and a microphone in the other, a short blonde man with hair not dissimilar to Vash's began instructing the students. "Alright, so I'm Feliks and tonight I'll be taking the names of the best dancers for the dance off, but for now you can all just practise." His hands still full, Feliks spun on his heels and pointed a free finger at the band, "Take it away Feli."

A brunet man with equally brown eyes that seemed to glisten under the lighting took to the centre of the stage with a guitar in hand and waved to the crowd. "Hi everyone, I'm Feliciano Vargas and these are my brothers Lovino and Enrico." He gestured behind him to two similar looking men. The man sitting behind a drum set had a darker complexion and darker hair compared to his brothers, and the man hovering about the keyboard was a ginger. But each man had a fly-away curl that verified their relation. "We're really excited to be playing for you all tonight, we've never played on t.v before. We haven't played many places actually, we only get to perform here thanks to Nonno."  
With a glare from one of his brothers, Feliciano quickly moved on, but the students had already made the connection between the trio and Vice Principal Augustus Vargas who was standing by the stage, grinning in excitement like the proud Grandfather he was. "Well anyway, nevermind. This is "I Wanna Love My Life Away" by Gene Pitney."

The students rushed the makeshift dance floor, the clacking of heels almost drowning out the opening lyrics, but for Roderich and Gilbert there was a pause as they both wondered who was supposed to lead. Taking the initiative, Roderich took Gilbert's hand in his and began stepping in time with the beat.  
Gilbert rolled his eyes at Roderich, unimpressed with his designated role, but in a very diplomatic move Roderich compromised. "I supposed we can rotate positions."

"Fine, but expect lots of dips when I take over."

Without a word, Roderich stopped dancing and bent Gilbert over his arm, dipping him only inches off the floor. "A pre-emptive strike."

* * *

Amused by the couple, but unwilling to interrupt their moment, Feliks tapped the nearest shoulder he could find, which just so happened to belong to Vash. "So do you the names of these two ?"

Letting Ivan's hands fall from his own, Vash scowled as he turned to answer Feliks. Wasn't it evident that he didn't want to be interrupted ? "Yeah, they're Fred and Ginger."  
Smirking to himself as Feliks jotted down the names, Vash moved to dance with Ivan once again, but his gaze lingered on a couple standing not far behind them. A wavy haired blond man was practically mauling the face off of his poor date. It was wonder that Principal Reinhardt hadn't broken it up by now.  
"Hey Ivan, take a look at this." Vash knew he shouldn't call attention to the pair, but they just couldn't be ignored. His hands were working their way through her long blonde hair. How on earth was it that he was the only one to have noticed ?  
Perhaps regaining a sense of self control, or more likely realizing that they were causing a scene, they pulled away from each other.  
Much to Vash's and Ivan's shared horror, the couple turned and they saw that it was Francis who'd been slobbering over none other than Mona Durand. Dancer extraordinaire, queen of the cards, and Ivan's ex.

Ignoring Ivan's presence entirely, Francis approached Vash, his arm still wrapped around Mona's waist. "Ah Vash, there you are. Have you met Mona ?" Francis wore his usual broad smile, but Vash knew better than to dismiss it as a polite gesture, it was a look designed to gloat.

Vash stuck his hand out to meet Mona's and shook it. "Yes I believe we've met once before." Releasing her hand, he turned and tilted his head towards Francis. "Have you introduced her to Roderich, you should get right on that."

Francis' smile never fell, but he couldn't help but feel slightly suspicious of Vash. Did he have an ulterior motive in sending him to Roderich and Gilbert, or did he just want him out of his hair ? Knowing Vash it was probably the latter. "You're right I should."

Pushing past a the countless happy couples, the pair took to the sidelines where they could get a better view of their peers. Francis craned his neck and balanced himself on his toes, looking out over the heads of his fellow students. One would think that a white haired man would stand out in a crowd, but apparently not.  
Seeing as Francis didn't seem to be in a hurry to rejoin the crowd, Mona took the opportunity to reprimand him. "I wasn't expecting for you to kiss me Francis. " Her voice was deep in an attempt to sound austere, but she couldn't bring it in herself to hold a grudge. Francis was a hopelessly romantic fool, determined to win Vash over. She didn't agree with his methods, but she couldn't fault his goals.

Accepting all responsibility, Francis raised his palms. "I know, I know, I got a little carried away with the act. You truly a saint for coming tonight."

Mona narrowed her blue eyes from behind her glasses. "I wouldn't be so sure. I wouldn't have come if I'd known that Ivan would be here." She paused and ran her fingers her hair, untangling any knots Francis may have left behind. "So this man that you're so keen to make jealous, tell me, is he usually so patronizing ?"

Francis glanced sideways at Mona, and then off across the room towards Vash who was chatting with Elizabeta. "Actually ordinarily he's a little more outwardly aggressive."

* * *

Sadik Adnan loved his job. He loved hosting, the pay was none to shabby, and he only had to work one night a week. But above all else he loved the spotlight.  
He had legions of fans in every last corner of the United States who sat around their sets to watch him each Saturday night. He'd even heard tell of the lucky few who owned colour televisions hosting get togethers during broadcasts. Of course Rydell was no exception.

A blonde goddess approached him, her hips encased in emerald silk swaying as she walked. The look on her face screamed trouble, screamed siren, but she was oh so magnetic.  
There was always one at each of the National Bandstand dances. One woman whose lips painted red as a rose, or whose fluttering eyelashes would captivate him and send his heart aflutter.

Again, Rydell was no exception.

Natalya positioned herself next to the stage, leaving only a camera between her an Sadik. Unsure of how to introduce herself to a celebrity, a man whose fanclub she was a card carrying member of, she simply offered him a polite nod as she tapped her foot along to the music.

Sadik returned her greeting with a toothy grin, removing his trademark sunglasses as he leaned towards her. "Are you entered in the dance off yet. Felix is taking names." He glanced around for Felix, spotting him across the building taking the name of an exceptional flamenco dancer. "What _is_ your name anyway."

"Natalya Arlovskaya"

Sadik opened his mouth to speak, but paused, mentally repeating her surname and deciding he couldn't say it himself. "That's a mouthful."

Natalya's blue eyes flashed with anger. Sadik may have been a tv star, and admittedly she was quite taken with him, but that didn't give him license to speak to her like that. "Would you like a mouthful of my fist ?"

Sadik swallowed a lump in his throat, trouble indeed. Through what must have been a compassionate intervention at the hands of God himself, he was beckoned onstage as the band finished their song, leaving Natalya unable to make good on he threat.

* * *

Principal Reinhardt made his way onto the stage with Sadik following behind. His long blonde hair that usually cascaded down his back was tied up in sleek ponytail for the occasion.  
He tinkered with the microphone stand for a moment, raising it to a suitable height. "I'll be brief as I'm sure you'd prefer get on with the evening rather than listen to me." There was a rowdy whoop from the students that held up his speech. With a sigh he began again. "I'm reminding you all that you will be on national television, do not embarrass Rydell High. There are just two rules, if you're tapped on the shoulder it means you're out of the competition so leave the dance floor at once. Secondly, there is to be no tasteless dancing. If I see any gyrating I will not hesitate to contact your elders." He remained silent a moment, allowing the severity of his words to sink in before stepping aside and allowing Sadik to give his introduction.

"It's great to be here in Rydell, the most rockin' town in all the United States" The students screeched like a pack of wild dogs at the mention of their home, very few, if any, caring that they were being pandered to. " I want to see you all having a good time tonight, bust some moves, break a leg. But above all else ignore the cameras and have a good time."  
Sadik glanced offstage to where Felix stood pointing at his watch and mouthing "Five seconds". He settled himself in front of the camera, straightening his suit as the students began their countdown. When they reached that all important number one he had already prepared a broad smile for the viewers at home. "Welcome to National Bandstand, I'm your host Sadik Adnan, coming to you live from Rydell High. It's what you've been waiting for all week, the dance off." The camera panned, keeping Sadik in view but now giving all at home a glimpse of the Vargas'. "Now here we go with The Vargas Trio playing the very apt, "Wild One" by Bobby Rydell."

The dance floor was flooded with students once again, most of whom began showing off with hazardous lifts and even a few splits here and there. The teachers could only look on annoyed as a rebellious few began parading themselves in front of the cameras, waving and blowing kisses to their family and friends at home. It took a great deal of self restraint for Principal Reinhardt to stop himself from marching the offending students out the door, but that would require pulling them away from the cameras, and he just couldn't risk such an embarrassing act being broadcast. He'd have to wait for Monday to reprimand them.

Sadik wasn't too bothered by the students actions; he'd been in the game long enough to grow used to the hopeful youngsters desperate for their few seconds of fame. It had become part of the job, and by now the only difficult part was manoeuvring his way around the clingy ones as he attempted to catch a glimpse of every couple in action.  
So far he'd felt rather impressed with a spectacled blonde. She looked as graceful as a swan with the hem of her crimson dress rising and falling with each twirl. Even though Sadik had been in the hosting business for quite some time, he still found himself awed with the speed of her footwork, it was a wonder that her partner managed to keep up.

But the couple that interested him the most were two men. They moved together as if they were a single entity, their movements so fluid and in sync. If anyone had ever embodied the phrase "Dance like there's nobody watching", it was them.  
Noting the look of joy shared on their faces, which delighted Sadik, too often did people dance for the trophy instead of dancing for the fun it, he tapped the shoulders of most of the surrounding dancers. Those two would be a tough act to beat.

Though the particular move didn't match up with the music, Gilbert pressed his forehead to Roderich's and shut his eyes. Roderich found it odd at first, but then it struck him that it wasn't the first time Gilbert had performed that action, but it was the first time that it didn't feel bittersweet. The last time they were so close was on their final night together at the beach, before their romance was sullied with separations and bravado.  
As they stood with their lips just inches apart, so close that they could feel the other's breath on their necks, they felt for the first time since the school year began that perhaps their relationship could return to it's original state of bliss. Roderich wasn't expecting an all out honeymoon period of course, no, trust was only starting to be built up again, but maybe if things continued down that road they would eventually blossom into something special. And dare he say it, love ?  
Roderich chewed his lip in attempt to disguise a grin. Did he the word "love" really just cross his mind as he thought of Gilbert ? He never would have dreamed of associating with anyone remotely like Gilbert prior to coming to Rydell, let alone grow attached. But he was glad he'd managed to get past his first impression, coming to see that there was so much more to Gilbert than hubris.

As the song ended, and the Vargas' brothers began the opening lines to "Teenager In Love" by Dion & The Belmonts, the pair pulled apart and made their way to towards some benches for a quick rest. Their hearts were being faster than could possibly be healthy, and neither could be sure if it was just from exertion.  
They sat in a comfortable silence as they caught their breath, watching as couples gazing into their lover's eyes passed them by. Even Alfred had gotten in on the action, pulling Natalya around the dance floor.  
Alfred was a great dancer when it came to upbeat music, but his energy didn't transfer well to slow songs, and he stepped on Natalya's feet on more than one occasion. It was actually impressive how Natalya managed to put up with him, gritting her teeth despite the fact that her feet were probably bruised and swollen after repeated abuse.

Just as Gilbert turned to Roderich, ready to joke about taking bets as to how long it would be until Natalya snapped, Francis approached them, Mona in tow.  
"There you are, you're hard to find for someone so conspicuous Gilbert." Francis threw his arm around Mona, ushering her forward. "I'd like for you both to meet Mona."

Gilbert's face fell, that couldn't have been Mona Durand standing before him. He'd first met her years ago, but they hadn't seen each other since she'd gotten together with Ivan. It wasn't due to jealousy, one awkward date had proved that there'd never be anything between them, Gilbert simply avoided Ivan and his associates at all costs.  
Their date had gone terribly, as it turned out Gilbert and Mona had nothing in common. Mona liked ballet, card games, the opera, and Gilbert. . . , well Gilbert didn't. Most of their evening together was spent in complete silence, their conversations were tedious, each question getting a short answer and then it was back to staring down at their shoes.  
Gilbert never imagined that he'd see a silver lining in the situation, but the date had been so awful that he'd never bothered to tell Francis or Antonio. And he could only hope that Mona had been equally as hushed.

Leaping from his seat before Mona could say anything incriminating, he offered her his hand. "Great to meet you, but I've gotta run, I just really love this song."

Mona stood with her mouth agape, watching as Gilbert dragged Roderich onto the dance floor, insisting that he couldn't miss out on dancing to "Train Kept A Rollin'".

Perhaps it was because the night was drawing to a close, or maybe it was just a popular song, but the dance floor was jam packed and the students jostled for space.  
With one hard blow from a careless stranger, Roderich was pushed away from Gilbert and off the dance floor entirely, while other couples filled the space between them. Cramped and unable to reach the sidelines, Gilbert threw his hand in the air and waved, hoping that Roderich would see and either join him for a final dance or guide him out.  
Bringing his arm back down, his elbow collied with another student.

Hearing a pained moan, he turned and saw Mona nursing the shoulder he'd just struck. "Shit sorry, are you ok ?"

Mona nodded. "I'll be fine, I'm positive that I'll still be able to dance." She paused and glanced around for Francis, but found nothing but a wall of bodies blocking her line of sight. "Not that it matters now I suppose."

"You really wanted that trophy huh ?"

"I'm a dancer of course I wanted it." Deciding that there was no point in waiting around for the song to end and missing her opportunity, she took Gilbert by the hand. "You wouldn't mind would you ? It's the final song and winning a dance contest on national television could be great exposure."

Unobjecting, Gilbert widened his stance to give them some breathing room. Truth be told, he didn't know he was doing. Mona was faster than him, better than him, and her whispers of 'sugar foot' and 'tuck-in turn' meant absolutely nothing to his untrained ears. But apparently her skill compensated for what he lacked because the other students made a clearing for them, allowing a rather impressed Sadik to catch them in action and remark that he'd found his front runners.  
With only seconds left to the song, most dancers had stopped dancing completely, opting instead to stand back as Gilbert and Mona stole the show.

Mona finished off with the splits and there was thunderous applause. Before Gilbert even had a chance to catch his breath, Sadik rushed beside him and shoved the dainty bronze trophy into his hands. "There you have it folks, our winners for this week. Now let's see our champions give us a solo dance."

Crewman adjusted the spotlights, letting the beams travel through the crowds before coming to rest on Gilbert and Mona. But Gilbert could have sworn, hand on heart, that the spotlight lingered on the doorway as Roderich rushed out in a fury.


End file.
